


Here, At the End of All Things

by Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Bring the Vagisil, Cannibalism, F/M, How do you tag this?, I think Rey would literally suck someone's dick for some soap, Inspired by The Dead Don't Die, Kylo's a grumpy baby, Liberal use of Italics, Mutual Pining, Prion disease, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey is horny as fuck, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, Which I have not seen yet, Will someone just think of her orgasm?, Zombie apocalypse typical gore?, Zombie related gore and stuff, Zombies, i don't even know what this is, people suck, things are gonna get weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-05-01 04:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: I am terrible at summaries.This story is about a horny girl, an irritable boy, and a whole lot of zombies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Hello there. Welcome to my latest bullshit. How are ya? Pull up a seat, fire up some popcorn, and let's get this trainwreck on the road.

 

* * *

 

     If there was one thing Rey hated more than being hot and sweaty, it was being horny, hot, and sweaty. There were a couple of issues with that situation, none of which she was too eager to get into.

     First, it was hot. It was hot as a pair of sweaty balls out here, and, thanks to the motherfucking _zombie apocalypse,_ basic hygiene was pretty much nonexistent at this point. Long gone were the days of thirty minute showers under scalding water while she let her conditioner sit in her hair for _extra conditioning._ Of the days when razors were used for shaving legs, rather than for self defense and crude weapons.

     Whose grand idea had it been to have a zombie apocalypse, anyway?! She’d have to give them a piece of her mind when she found out. Assuming they weren’t dead. Or undead, rather.

     The thing with being horny while it was hot as fuck outside was the fact that, due to nearly no shower in sight, when one eventually pulled their pants down to handle their business like the mature adults they were and not pathetic survivors leftover from the fall of humanity, there was a certain _odor._

     Not the odor like infection or anything like that, but the odor that could only come with a sweaty vag. It was a unique scent, to be sure, and maybe even an aphrodisiac to some. But not to Rey. No, when she attempted to handle business, it was usually after one of those rare bathing excursions. Or whenever she had baby wipes to spare, which was much harder than it sounded, since she tended to use those for wiping after using the bathroom and the like.

     Either way, pulling down her shorts to flick her bean wasn’t exactly a conducive way to survive during the end of the world.

     What she wouldn’t give for some chocolate.

     Or a Hitachi wand.

     “Oh my god, this is so _annoying!”_ she glowered, adjusting her backpack over her shoulder, her grip on her staff tightening. She made sure to keep her voice low, not wanting to alert any of the undead to her presence.

     The disease that had wiped nearly everyone out had been _brilliantly_ and _cleverly_ been called the Z Virus. Whoever had named it something _straight_ out of a modern day D-movie should have been shot. The rule was, if you get infected through a bite or a scratch, your chances of survival are pretty much zero unless you amputate the infected limb immediately. Like, within ten minutes immediately. Because then it spread to other parts of the body and it was basically like stage 4 cancer, only with zombie juice and—yeah, things weren’t too good after that.

     But instead of staying inside where it was (relatively) safe, Rey was out here trying to find some food to add to the meager stockpile in her bag. She was really beginning to feel like Heath Ledger’s character in _Brokeback Mountain_ because of her newfound hatred of all things beans. Baked beans, pork and beans, lima beans, chili beans, kidney beans, pinto beans, black beans, cannellini beans, just to name a few. She was sick of beans. All she needed to do was go up to the mountains and give in to the butt sex with no one but the sheep around for witnesses.

     Okay, maybe she wasn’t _that_ horny. It would take her forever to get up into the mountains, assuming she didn’t become lunch for whatever unsavory ex-people she came across.

     The sun overhead was just beginning to set, painting the sky in gorgeous hues of pink and orange. It’s moments like these where she thinks maybe the world isn’t so bad, where there might even be some hope for society to rebuild itself. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but even if that were to happen, there would be nothing for her there anyway.

     She was a child of abandonment, having grown up in less than savory houses with little money and clothes that were too tight. This wasn’t really anything new for her—well, added zombies aside. But people were still just as terrible now as they had been and perhaps even more so. Now people were desperate—food was scarce and the world was an uncertain place. No one really knew for sure what the future held, and no one even seemed to be planning for it anymore. Everyone was just trying to survive, to make it to the next day, the next week, and if they were lucky, maybe even the next few months.

     She kept her ears strained, listening for any sound that might suggest she wasn't alone. She didn't _hear_ anything, but nearly everyone had become more aware of their surroundings lately. The lack of noise wasn't a guarantee that she was alone.

     Setting her pace at a light jog, she kept to the edge of the road, knowing it would be easier to see the dead coming from the treeline or up ahead. It was easier this way—kept moving from point A to point B a lot more simple in some places, whereas with others, it made it more dangerous.

     On her rare encounters with other people, which didn't always end well, she'd heard whispers of a group of people that claimed to be in charge, their tactics for sourcing food considered _questionable._

     It was said they patrolled the roads for those in need, loading them up in their cars before taking them back to their base or settlement to bring them into their fold. Or something—she wasn’t a hundred percent sure, really.

     Still, it was beginning to get dark enough that she wouldn’t be able to see anything coming, and she needed to find a safe place to set up camp for the night. She didn’t have a tent or anything, nothing to keep the mosquitos at bay while she slept. She had some bug spray, but that was running low and she really needed to conserve it as best she could.

     Pulling her bag around to her side, she dug through it briefly, hand brushing over the thick tarp she’d managed to squish into it. It was useful for tying between trees to shield from the rain, but the skies were clear overhead. There would be no rain tonight, nothing but hot, humid air and no reprieve. Tonight, it would be useless. She _could_ lay it out along the ground, but movement across it would be loud and obnoxious. Maybe if she could find some place inside. Some place she could rest for just a few hours before beginning her trek again.

     She’d heard there may be a small colony of people grouping together up north, where it was cold enough that the dead would freeze in the winter months and be of no concern. It was a tempting prospect, to be able to relax slightly with one less threat. However, being within the icy grasp of the far north meant there would also be less food.

     She was curious, but still undecided if she wanted to try and venture that far quite yet. It was just her in her little group—she, herself, and Rey. She had no one to help her out, no one to rely on to stay safe, no one to watch her back or help find food.

     Being alone was a bitch, but it was what she’d always done.

     This was how it had always been.

     And it _sucked._

     “Okay, just have to find somewhere for the night,” she muttered to herself. “Just to get some shut eye.”

     A sound up ahead made her jump, something large and made of metal hitting the ground with a resounding _thud._ Through the trees just up ahead and to the right she could make out a building, one that appeared to be some sort of old factory or warehouse. If she was lucky, maybe it was a place that used to produce canned goods and there would be a few lying around. Maybe not, it was hard to tell if anyone had already been through there or not.

     “Fuck it, one way to find out.” Hoisting her staff up at the ready, she glanced around warily before setting off in the direction of the noise. She wasn’t sure what would be worse—the dead having made that sound and overrun the building, or a human. It was hit or miss with the humans. Sometimes they were friendly, or at least cordial, whereas other times, they just tried to straight up kill you or steal your supplies.

     She was honestly praying it was the dead. They were at least predictable, wanting to eat everything with a pulse.

     Maybe she could even get over her whole _odor_ issue and take care of something when she was inside. Assuming it was safe, of course.

     One could only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is pretty much gonna just be a series of unrealistic situations in which a boy and a girl meet and fuck. So, prepare your assholes for that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaay, bullshit train!

    The factory, as it turned out to be, appeared to be one that made replacement parts for cars. There was scrap metal everywhere, tetanus just _waiting_ to strike. She had to move slowly, basically shuffling her feet in order to avoid a rusty nail or something going right through the soles of her shoes, which were worn thin from constant use.

    Her earlier suspicions seemed confirmed when she saw a few zombies milling around a slab of metal that had probably been set against the wall and eventually succumbed to the elements or maybe it had gotten pushed or bumped. Whatever the reason, the dead were currently investigating the noise. Their mindless grunts and growls permeated the air, almost like a song. It was somehow _comforting,_ to know that even though she was alone, she wasn’t _alone._ She had company, even if they couldn’t understand her anymore and would try to eat her as soon as they saw her. She didn’t think she could handle the silence of the world just yet.

    Lost in her thoughts, she stumbled over a crowbar, accidentally kicking it in front of her with a loud clatter.

    Wincing, she crouched a little lower, sparing glances around her for movement. Chances were the dead had heard and were on their way—she needed to get somewhere safe, fast.

    She lifted her staff in a ready pose, prepared to thrust the knife she’d attached to one end with duct tape and thick cords into the nearest zombie’s head.

    Going for the head or spinal cord was one of the only ways to kill them for good, along with fire. Once they had gone past the necrotic state and were little more than dried out husks, they actually went up in flames rather easily.

    It didn’t take long for the telltale shuffle of shoes across the asphalt to come closer, obviously more than one if the noises coming from their throats were anything to go by.

    As the first one came around the corner, Rey shifted quickly, striking before the zombie even seemed to pinpoint where she was at. She drove the knife directly through one of its cloudy eyes, closing her own for a brief moment to avoid any infected fluid to splatter in them. She couldn’t imagine what was a worse way to go—either a bite or a scratch or an accidental infection through zombie juice getting in the eye.

    Two more approached, hands reaching, jaws snapping as some _yummy_ looking liquid oozed from open wounds on their faces.

    She dispatched them quickly enough, but it was more than time for her to high-tail it somewhere safe, as there was sure to be more on the way sooner or later. She’d prefer not to be here when that happened.

    “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, breath coming just a little more quickly. Looking around, she debated her options. “Can’t go that way—don’t know if there’s an exit. Can’t go back the way I came or this was all for nothing.”

    Her only choice for the moment, at least, was to try and get inside—to maybe wait it out until it was a bit more safe. Until she had more time to plot out the area and plan a route.

    To her left was a broken window, the glass jutting from the frame. She’d half to be careful or else she’d get cut and possibly get an infection, and then she wouldn’t even have the damn zombies to blame for dying. Just her own rotten luck.

    She was through the window in a flash, thankful at least for a shady childhood that had equipped her with the skills useful during the end of the world.

    Inside was nearly pitch black, hard to see her surroundings with the sun nearly below the horizon behind her. Rooting around in her bag for another moment, she pulled out a tiny flashlight, small enough for her to fit in her mouth to hold as she wandered through the building hands free.

    Keeping her footsteps light, she searched each room, bursting around the doorframe to catch whatever monster may be inside.

    Strangely enough, it seemed to be empty of the living dead. There were a few bodies on the ground, though it was more than obvious that they were dead dead, black liquid oozing from their skulls to pool under them. It had congealed into something that reminded her of Venom from comics she’d read as a kid.

    Still, she went around, rather than over, having seen enough horror movies to half-expect it to sit up and grab her ankle.

    No fucking thanks.

    After she was confident she was alone, she headed up to one of the higher floors, determined not to be the very first thing zombies saw if they were to make their way inside again.

    Upon moving up the stairs, however, she noticed a soft glow coming from up ahead. It flickered ever so slightly, a warm yellow orange that could only mean one thing. Fire.

    And this late in the apocalypse, it could only mean she _wasn’t_ as alone as she’d thought. The idea was both relieving and terrifying, and she had no idea which one was more prominent.

    Watching her steps to make sure nothing creaked, she crept into the room above.

    There, in the corner, was what appeared to be a makeshift campsite. It was crude, as it was inside a building rather than outside, but there was no denying the firepit and the logs stacked in such a way that it reminded her of Boy Scouts building little log cabins to start a fire in. Draped over it was a grate, a small pot situated on the top of it. She had the brief question of if there was anything inside the pot. Please, don’t be beans.

    Off to the side was an old sleeping bag, thrown open with nothing and no one inside. Next to it sat a worn leather bag, a large assault rifle, and a few cans with no label.

    Wary, she crept forward, eyes darting around to check for the owner. Chances were they were around if the fire was still going. No one in their right mind would leave their fire going and risk having their supplies go up in flames without them present.

    Which meant—

    “Drop it.”

    There was something very cool, and _very_ metal pressed against the back of her head, and she stiffened, immediately doing as she was told. Her staff clattered to the ground, and she held her hands up in surrender. It was the only thing she _could_ do. She had no idea who this man—because yes, the person behind her was _obviously_ a man—was. He could have absolutely no qualms about killing someone, living or dead. And he had her dead to rights.

    “I’m not here to steal your things—” she mumbled around the flashlight in her mouth.

    “Quiet.”

    She fell silent, closing her eyes as she waited for the bullet. He shifted behind her and she felt the flashlight get removed from her mouth.

    “Look, I’ll go, I was just—”

    “I said _quiet,”_ he rumbled, holding the barrel of the gun steady against her skull as he briefly patted her down. Probably looking for a knife or a handgun. Apparently satisfied, he pushed the barrel of the gun more firmly against her head until she took a step forward. “Sit.”

    Unable to help herself, she decided that if she was going to go, she was going to go out her way. “You want me to sit on the floor? That’s pretty rude. I mean, if you’re going to tell someone to sit in your humble _abode,_ you could at least offer me a chair.”

    “Do you not have any sort of self-preservation?” He snapped, removing the gun and placing what she felt to be a very _large_ hand on her shoulder. He pushed her down to her knees, and she fell backwards onto her ass with a little _oof._

“No, not really,” Rey muttered petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Tilting her head back, she blinked as she just seemed to keep looking _up._

    Jesus fucking Christ, this man was _massive._ Easily over six feet, arms like he bench-pressed cars every morning, a too tight white tank top that showed off his broad shoulders, and dark eyes that said he hadn’t heard a joke a day in his life.

    Those eyes narrowed at her, studying her before he retrieved her staff from the floor. Moving around her, he knelt down across the fire, gun (a handgun, apparently) still trained on her, though it was almost lazily.

    “What are you doing here?” His eyes were piercing, and in the light of the fire, she could see they were a dark brown around the center, but a bit lighter, more honey colored towards the outer edges. _Almost_ warm, if it wasn’t for the almost emotionless look in them. And his hair, so dark and somehow still soft looking, like he had just managed to take a shower earlier that day. Maybe he had—she didn’t know his bathing schedule.

    She shrugged. “I was looking for food. I’m running low.”

    He grunted slightly, tilting his head. “What else?”

    She eyed his goatee, wondering how he kept it so neat looking. Did he have a mirror? A straight-blade razor? Maybe he used a giant knife like a badass.

     _“What else?”_ He repeated, sounding a bit more irritated now.

    “Huh? Oh, uhm, I was half thinking about heading north. There’s supposed to be a colony up there, I heard. Might be worth checking out. If anything, it’ll get me out of this god forsaken heat.”

    He raised an eyebrow slowly, looking her over. “How old are you?”

    “What does it matter?” she snapped back.

    “Are you even old enough to be out here on your own? Where are your parents?”

    “Where are yours?” She bristled, sitting up straight. “Do you always give everyone you basically hold hostage the third degree? I’m not here to steal your shit, and that should be good enough.”

    “So you want me to just let you go?” he asked, tilting his head to the other side now.

    “That would be preferable, yes.”

    He huffed—a sound that might have been a chuckle at one point in time. “What’s your name?”

    “Why do you care? You’re either going to kill me, rape me, or cut off a part of me to eat. Does my name _really_ matter?” She glared at him, trying to put every bit of malice into her stare.

    “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Kylo,” he replied, speaking as though she’d actually given him an answer.

    “You know, I’m not hearing a denial,” she pointed out, a bolt of fear chasing down her spine.

    He shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

    “Oh goody. Take your time with that, will you?” she snarked.

    “What’s your name?” he asked again.

    Shooting him a look, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Rey.”

    “Rey.”

    “Yes, that’s what I said.”

    “Well, _Rey._ What do you think I should do with you? Because honestly, I don’t trust you.” He reached behind him for one of the cans, pulling a knife out from his boot to begin prying the top open.

    “What? You don’t think I’ll actually leave you alone?”

    “No.”

    “No? What the hell.”

    “You’ll probably bring your friends back here to kill me off and take what I have. I really don’t want to have to kill them,” he said.

     “I don’t have any friends.” It came out a bit more sullen than she’d intended, and she tucked her knees up to her chest, hugging them. “You can believe me or not, but if I had any friends, I would be traveling with them, or I would have screamed as soon as you pulled your gun away from my head. Which, let me tell you, isn’t how you greet a guest.”

    She was fairly sure she saw the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly, but it was gone too quickly to be positive.

    “Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, eyes on his work. He pulled the lid away enough for him to pour the food into the pot.

    “Is that—?”

    “Beans? Yes it is,” he replied without looking up.

    She groaned, lolling her head forward to rest against her legs.

    “What?”

    “I am so _sick_ of beans!”

    “Who said you’re getting any?”

    “You’re really going to just eat in front of someone? That’s pretty rude.”

    “I’m pretty rude, I guess,” he said, producing a spoon from somewhere and giving the beans a stir.

    Huffing more loudly, she shook her head. “You’re an asshole is what you are.”

    “Yep.”

    “Well, Mr. Asshole, can you decide what you’re going to do with me? Because if you aren’t going to kill me, rape me, or eat me, I’d like to be on my way.”

    “No you don’t,” he said.

    “Excuse me? How do you know what I’d like?”

    He met her eyes then. “It’s more dangerous in this area at night—they congregate around here for some reason. I don’t know if it’s the fire or if they smell something else in the air, but whenever the sun goes down, it gets really dangerous. You’re better off staying here until morning.”

    “What, suddenly you’re wanting to shelter me?” she asked, giving him a doubtful look.

    “Hardly. I don’t own the building. And I still don’t trust you to try not to rob me. But you’re human, and we’ve got to try to help each other out where we can, or we’re no better than them or the real assholes out there.”

    “Wow, that seems almost _nice,_ coming out of your mouth,” she muttered.

    He stood up then, taking the pot from over the fire. Grabbing a spoon, he stuck it into it and came around to set it down in front of her. “You don’t really know much about me to be judging my character or not, Rey. Eat.”

    She just looked at him.

    “What? You saw me heat them up—I didn’t put anything in them. I know you said you’re sick of beans, but they have a lot of protein, which your body really needs. Eat those, and then I’ll give you some dessert I managed to come up with.”

    “You’re being awfully generous,” she pointed out.

    “Everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

    “I guess so.”

    “Eat. Then get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

    She eyed him warily for a long moment, frowning to herself. It seemed odd that this complete stranger was willing to feed her and allow her to sleep in the same area for the night. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep watch, since she’d be wanting to do the same thing, but her earlier worries came back.

    If he wanted to kill her, he’d had the opportunity to. The same if he wanted to rape her—he could have easily held her down and done whatever he wanted, but he hadn’t. The only contact had been to her shoulder, and even that hadn’t been for anything other than making her sit. And of course, if he wanted to eat her, he could just tie her down and saw her leg or whatever off. He didn’t need to go through the trouble of feeding her and everything. One meal wasn’t going to put much weight on her.

    Reluctantly, she nodded, scooting forward to take a spoonful of the beans. Pork and beans. How wonderful.

    As she ate, he went around, cleaning his guns, taking stock of his knives, and sitting next to the window while looking out into the courtyard below.

    When she was done, he gave her a can of pears, the sweet taste heaven on her tongue after so long. He hardly spoke again, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, his responses half grunts or none at all.

    He barely even looked up as she cleaned up the pot and the spoon, setting them down beside the fire.

    “Can I—?” she asked, gesturing vaguely towards her backpack.

    Another grunt as he turned his gaze from the window to watch her.

    Standing, she stretched out her legs and pulled her bag off, digging around for the tarp and a spare sweater she had that she often used as a pillow. Moving away, to the corner of the room furthest away from him and the fire, she rolled the tarp out and set her sweater down. Lying down, she rolled away to face her back to him, eyes on the wall in front of her.

    What an odd end to an odd day. She just had to hope she woke up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like a general plot in mind, but if anyone has something specific they want to see, feel free to shout it out in the comments and I may include it. 


	3. Chapter 3

    “Wake up.”

    Rey startled at the feeling of something nudging her back, immediately flailing around for something to use as a weapon. Her mind was fuzzy, sleep clouding her thought processes as she rolled onto her knees.

    “Hey, calm down—”

    The voice startled her even more and she shifted from her knees to her back, scooting against the wall to get away from the perceived threat.

    It took a moment of staring at the man in front of her to realize that he wasn’t trying to attack her. He stood just on the edge of her tarp, gun slung across his chest by a strap, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

    Oh yeah, she’d fallen asleep with him nearby last night. It all came rushing back, how he’d had his gun pointed at her, how he’d fed her and had perhaps the most conversation with her than she’d had in a long, long while.

    Rubbing at her eyes, she asked, “What time is it?”

    “Just a little after sunrise. They’ll probably start clearing out outside if you want to get going,” he said, his face expressionless. Like he truly didn’t care one way or the other if she stayed or not.

    Standing slowly and stretching out her spine, arms over her head, Rey yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What are you going to do? Just stay here?”

    “Probably. I might head to another area and clean it out—I haven’t decided yet.” He shrugged one broad shoulder. “I might just wander.”

    “Well, if you feel like it, you’re more than welcome to come with me,” she offered, looking up at him.

    He was still as stoic as he’d been last night, his mouth drawn into a grim line. She wondered what his story was, why he was alone. If he had any family or friends somewhere. It didn’t seem likely, or she was pretty sure he would have attempted to find them.

    His mouth twitched ever so faintly, and she decided that was his way of smiling. She wondered what a full blown one looked like on him, but the time for that was in another life.

    “I appreciate the offer,” he replied, handing her her belongings.

    “But you’re not coming.”

    He shook his head. “No, I’m not coming with you. I added a few cans of food to your bag.”

    “Thanks,” she replied as she glanced inside of it before looking back up at him. “Why not come with? Do you have something here? Someone?”

    “No, not anymore,” he answered, taking a deep breath before extending his hand out.  “Take care of yourself, Rey.”

    Understanding that he was done with that line of the conversation and she would get no more information out of him, she took his hand and gave it a soft shake, meeting his eyes as she absorbed the warmth of him. It was good to be touching a human again, to be reminded that there was more to the world than zombies. There was hope for the future, even if it wasn’t with Kylo.

    “You too, Kylo,” she replied, offering him a smile. “And thank you for sharing your food with me. I hate beans, but it was worth it for those pears. See you around.”

    With that, she turned and headed back down the stairs, backpack securely attached, staff in hand and at the ready.

    It was something special, to find someone at the end of the world. Even if it wasn’t romantic like all of the sappy love stories she’d read growing up, it was nice to know there were more people that existed outside your field of view. To know that there was a sliver of hope in the world.

    He was right, too—the dead had cleared out of the courtyard, and while she had no idea why they seemed to huddle here at night, she stored that kernel of information away for the future. Perhaps they retained some sort of human part that demanded they seek shelter when the sun when down. She couldn’t be sure, and she definitely wasn’t a scientist, but maybe it was an idea.

    As she reached the perimeter fence, she chanced a look behind her, smiling faintly to see a large, familiar frame in the window. She raised her hand in a wave, her heart skipping ever so slightly to see him return it.

    With a restock of supplies, Rey turned her face towards the rising sun, gauging how many hours she might have until noon. Heading north would be her best bet, to see if there was indeed that colony. She could only hope that it was and that her trip wasn’t for nothing.

 

* * *

 

    She needed to find a map, first of all. Needed to plot out her route up north. Supposedly it was nestled up in the mountains, away from civilization. It was supposed to be _safer,_ because why would the dead be up in the mountains? Or something like that, anyway.

    A map and a general idea of _which_ set of mountains might be a good place to start.

    With her mind set, she took a deep breath and headed off in the direction of the town, where there might be a store or a tourist trap building that had enticed the elderly in with the promise of free tickets to shows and discounts that went _above_ the 10% senior citizen one they already took advantage of.

    While her sleep hadn’t been the best, and didn’t compare by any means to a comfortable bed, it was enough to feel more energized, more rested. Perhaps it was knowing someone else had her back—someone somewhat trustworthy because they were on the same side.

    As she meandered away from the factory and back towards what used to be civilization, she thought more about her plan to get to this community. Did she want to try to stock up on food and have the weight be a burden, or did she want to try to pick things up along the way? Raid old houses and hope they were filled with _something?_ Maybe she could even try to find a car and enough fuel to get her a bit closer to her destination.

    In a way, she would miss this place. She hadn’t left her footprint on it at all, hadn’t left any trace of herself, but it was the place she’d called home for the past few years. Before the end had ever happened—but not before the world had turned into a shitty place.

    That had happened long before.

    Maybe it would finally right itself soon enough.

    

* * *

 

    “Hey! I see her—she’s running that way! Go—no, you fucking _idiot! That_ way! Go get her!”

    Rey willed herself to go harder, to run faster—anything to escape the two men following her. The echo of heavy footsteps was behind her, soles thudding against the pavement. Rey was fast, but these men were taller, their legs longer, and the one closest to her was rapidly closing the distance.

    It was the part of town that had been built back in the 20s, storefronts lining either side of the street with mom and pop shops, the little pharmacy that had been within the family for generations, parking meters every twenty feet or so. If she wasn’t currently running for her life, she might even stop to admire it.

    Something hit the ground behind her, making her jump and roll into the nearest building. Unfortunately, that meant crashing through the glass door of the town general store in an effort to get away.

    The storefront window shattered next, shards raining down on and around her as she attempted to both catch herself and shield her head.

    It was a struggle to listen for movement behind her as she scrambled to her feet, slipping and slapping her hands out to catch herself. The sharp sting of something biting into her palms made her hiss, but thankfully it didn't last too long as adrenaline flooded her body. One glance down showed blood dripping from her fingertips, and having hunted animals before, she knew she'd leave a blood trail if the wounds weren't tended to as soon as possible.

    Someone was still shouting behind her, their words unintelligible.

    For now, she wrapped her hands in the hem of her shirt, doing anything to keep crimson splatters from hitting the tile. She'd worry about embedded glass shards and a bloody shirt later. For now, she just had to _get away._ Nothing these guys wanted from her could be good.

    She raced through the store, heading for the back exit. Had she the time, she might grab some of the snacks she saw still hanging from display hooks, but that was another issue. She wouldn't need them.if she was dead.

    As she barrelled through the emergency exit, using her shoulder to push it open, she gasped as she came face to face with a zombie. Half of its face was missing, rotted muscle and sinew exposed on one side, a few bugs skittering in between the barely connected tendons of its cheek. Its milky eyes stopped on her and it began growling, staggering toward her with hands outstretched.

    Panic swelled up in her chest, realizing she was missing her staff and her hands were virtually useless as defenses. They were open wounds and if this thing touched her, she was fucked.

    Still, she stood somewhat of a chance rather than just letting it eat her, she pulled her hands from her shirt and settled into a defensive position, ready to basically wrangle this thing like a bull.

    As it stepped closer, she wondered briefly if she could make it through the apocalypse with no hands. Maybe she'd have to amputate them and she could become a pirate with a hook for a hand instead. If anyone came after her with an alligator or an alarm clock though, she was going to have issues.

     _Thwack!_

    The zombie's head exploded. Straight up exploded. Blood and thicker things splattered all over her, and by some miracle, her eyes and mouth happened to be closed. Still, even with the zombie now _dead_ dead, her face was coated in unsavory juices and she was pretty much fucked because those guys were behind her (and one had probably fired the shot, honestly).

    She was useless, and as she tried to scrub her eyes free of nasty shit with the sleeve of her shirt, she heard footsteps approaching, a low cat-calling type whistle coming her way.

    "Well looky what we have here," a voice said, one she recognized as the one that had been shouting behind her.

    "Easy pickins right here. She can't see shit," the second, and arguably dumber, one added, and she could practically _hear_ the sound of his IQ dropping. Pretty much imagine every bad stereotype about the south and their habits of inbreeding, and this was the result.

    "Get away from me!" Rey snapped, turning to face them. She managed to get her eye cleared away enough to make out their shapes, seeing them come even closer.

    "Nah, don't think we will. Gotta put food on the table after all."

    Vaguely, she saw one raise something in his hand, something long and black and as it came at her face—oh, that was the butt of a gun—utter darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noooooo! *fake gasp* What ever will the creepy hillbillies do to her???


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm sorry for the late update—I just started a new job and I've been working my ass off lately and haven't had much time to write. I hope this is somewhat coherent.

    When she woke, her mind foggy and her head ringing, she saw blood. It was smeared across the concrete beneath her, some of it dried into a nasty brown while other parts were just beginning to congeal, looking sticky to the touch.

    She was lying on her side in a dark room, light coming in through the boarded up windows. Scrambling to her feet, she looked around in an attempt to find some way out of this room. It was small, just barely longer than the length of her arms spread out, but it was longer than it was wide, and the shadows behind her loomed ominously. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, her pulse in her throat as she bit her tongue.

    Where the fuck _was she?_

    A noise in the darkness caught her attention, her head swivelling around to face it. Her eyes widened at the sound of shuffling, and instantly, she reached to her side for her staff, only to find it gone. She was unarmed in a dark room in who the fuck knew what building with _something_ coming closer. Her brain instantly said it was a zombie, having been stirred by her movement, and now it was coming towards her and she had no way to defend herself.

    She held her breath, silently willing the abrupt quiet to lull whatever it was away from her. To think she’d suddenly just disappeared. Doubtful, but her human side couldn’t help but hope.

    The sound picked up in speed, feet hitting the concrete with harsh slaps until another sound joined the first. It was metal dragging along the ground, and as she squinted into the darkness, prepared to fend it off with her forearms.

    Out of the darkness came what she had feared, running at her full speed until it just suddenly stopped, caught on something around its throat. Realizing that she’d hidden behind her arms, she peeked around them and frowned at the way the light behind her barely glinted off of the bit of metal around its neck. It was in a straight jacket, arms strapped to its sides so that it couldn’t grab anything to pull closer. Teeth gnashing against each other as animalistic snarls sounded from it, Rey backed away, reaching blindly along the wall behind her as though to get away.

    Someone had place this thing here. As a deterrent or just to scare her, she wasn’t sure. But she could tell that it was at the end of its chain, and that it had been dead for a while. The skin around its throat was beginning to slough off at the friction of the collar, black liquid oozing from the open flesh.

    What the _fuck._

She was blinded suddenly by bright light behind the zombie, on the far wall that was perhaps thirty feet away from where she stood.

    Raising an arm to shield her eyes, she tried to make out her surroundings, tried to get some sort of compass of where she was. The wall outside was white, bland, nothing special. And then a man stood in the entry, his silhouette lanky. He wasn’t even particularly tall, just her height and skinny. She was willing to bet she could possibly take him on, if not for the pounding in her head that was just this side of disorienting. It was like someone had slammed her between two giant cymbals, her entire body vibrating like they did in cartoons.

    “Well looky here,” he said, his voice twangy like he’d grown up somewhere where straw hats, half buttoned overalls, and bare feet were a thing. “Sleepin’ Beauty’s finally awake. Hey, Earl! Look at this!”

    A portly man followed right after, somehow shorter than the first, looking very much like a real-life version of Mario, mustache and all. “What do ya want?”

    “She’s awake. What do ya wanna do with her?”

    “That’s a question for Tessa and you know it, Hank. She calls the shots around here, not us. What were her instructions?” Earl asked, twirling one corner of his mustache in thought as he looked into the room.

    “Where am I?” Rey asked, hating that her voice came out sounding more like a petrified squeak than a woman used to fending for herself. “What is this place?”

    “You’re our guest, doll. We just need to find somewhere else to put you until we can have you over for dinner,” Hank leered, pulling forth a rod with a loop around the end while Earl did the same.

    “You grab her, I’ll grab the dead one,” Earl instructed, already easing into the room. He gave a sharp tug on the chain, catching the zombie’s attention. It lurched towards him, and he was able to loop the noose around its  neck long enough to drag it out of the way so that Hank could enter.

    Rey shook her head, backing up further against the wall as he approached, looking at her like she was a feral dog that was about to strike and needed to be put down. He stuck the pole out, waving the noose around her head but not quite reaching.

    She swatted it away with a glare at him.

    “Oh come on, darlin’, it’s just how things work here. It’s to protect both you _and_ me. One way or another, this thing is going around your neck, so it’s probably best to just do it before you get knocked out again and we put it on you and drag you there anyway,” he said, and as he grew closer, she noticed the fine tremors that ran through his hands and the tick that seemed to happen around his neck.

    Something about that stood out to her more than it probably should have. Something in her mind whispered _get away, don’t let him touch you._ Rey tried to make it a habit of listening to that voice.

    “I’m good right here, thank you,” she replied, finding her temper again. How dare these men trap her like an animal, threatening to lead her around like sheep to the slaughter.

    Hank chuckled, the sound sending shivers up her spine with the _wrongness_ of it. It was similar to a mad man’s cackle, though even less stable somehow, like he couldn’t quite control the pitch.

    “Just do what he says, girl,” Earl said from behind them, holding the zombie at bay with his own pole. “No one here needs to get hurt.”

    “We’re gonna take you to Tessa is all, see what she wants us to do with ya,” Hank said, encouraging in that disgusting tone of his. “She makes the rules around here. Don’t wanna cross her, or you end up like old Chris here.” He gestured behind him.

    Her eyes slid over his shoulder, and then to the door, wondering if she would be able to make it out in time. But then she wouldn’t know where she was supposed to go—if it was the right way or wrong way, or if there were more chained up dead like Chris.

    Still, she had to try.

    She nodded and held perfectly still, almost serene with the knowledge that she would either make it out or she wouldn’t. No one would even know she was one. No one would even notice or care. But Rey wouldn’t go down without a fight. She may not grow old or live to see the resurgence of humanity ever again or have children of her own or a man she loved, but no one would be able to say she took her death lying down.

    When that god forsaken noose came near her again, she waited until it was just over her head before reaching up to grab the pole right where it branched off into the noose. She pulled it towards her, taking the small man with it. With a hard yank, she freed the pole and swung it back around, smacking him right in the side of the head hard enough to send him forward into the wall with a groan of pain.

    It had happened so fast that Earl hadn’t had a chance to react, still struggling with the zombie as he was. She used the time she had to bolt around and out the door, turning the corner and skidding to a halt at the harsh bright light streaming in through the windows above. It looked like an old warehouse, a nice open  floor plan with light coming in from frosted windows across the top portion of the walls. Allowing light in, but no one out.

    Cursing under her breath, she spared a glance around and took off towards one of the walls, thinking there must be some sort of exit. Just as she rounded the corner, she felt something catch over her head and tighten around her neck. It pulled her back, air refusing to fill her lungs as whoever it was used their leverage to pull her down to the ground, driving her face into the hard concrete. She felt the bruise instantly, knowing it would be ugly and swollen in just a few minutes, and there was blood at the corner of her lip. Hot and metallic tasting. Enraging. And yet, she could do absolutely nothing about it.

    Someone placed a foot on her back, keeping her pinned and controlled. She was able to at least turn her head a bit and look up at the person. A woman, her orange hair looking like it had been hacked to chin length with a knife. The only thing perfect about it was the straight line her bangs made across her forehead. Perfectly straight, like someone with a precision laser had used it to cut that part of her hair. It was odd, but it stuck out to Rey, along with those eyes. Searing green, like lush forests hidden by mossy undergrowth.

    She would have looked friendly. Maybe. If she wasn't grinning wickedly down at her, like a cat that had _finally_ caught the canary. She leaned down closer, inhaling deeply as though Rey smelled like anything other than a giant swamp.

    "So glad you could join us, dear," she purred, yanking Rey up and to her feet. "My name is Tessa, and we're thrilled to have you for dinner." She used the pole to steer Rey towards another part of the warehouse, one that was hidden behind plastic curtains for _privacy._ As she was pushed through, she immediately began to panic. The entire makeshift room was covered in plastic tarps—easy clean up. And there, in the center of the room, was a trough.

    "What is that?" Rey hissed, although she already knew the answer.

    They were going to have her kneel on one side of it and slit her throat until she bled out.

    Everything suddenly clicked into place—how wrong everything felt. How none of them seemed quite _right._ The tremors in Hank's hands, the strange laughter…

    They weren't just killing people—they were _eating_ them.

    "Oh, that?" Tessa asked, shoving her forward. "That's the dinner bell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww shit. Those damn cannibals get ya every time, I tell ya.


	5. Chapter 5

     Panic gripped her, her breath coming in short, harsh gasps as Tessa pushed her forward. The trough sat there, glinting from the sunlight streaming in through the windows near the top of the wall behind it. It wasn’t something that she would normally be afraid of—it was just a piece of metal, something used to feed cattle or hold water. 

     Now, though, knowing that it was meant to hold her _blood,_ the very essence of life, she felt like this was her last chance to get away. It was the point where your body realizes there’s not much more you can do except give it all you’ve got, and maybe even it _still_ won’t be enough. But by god, she was going to fucking _fight._

     While she may not be able to reach Tessa with her hands, she was capable of at least reaching out with a leg to try and kick. It was a bit of a stretch, but her foot connected with Tessa’s knee in just the right spot, making her cry out in pain as she crumpled to kneel awkwardly on the concrete. 

     With the woman’s balance off-kilter, Rey grasped onto the pole attached to her neck, giving it a sharp tug that allowed it to come free from Tessa’s hands.

     “No!” she screeched, doing her best to stumble back to her feet, fingers darting out like claws. “Get back here!” 

     Rey, even though she’d used a staff for nearly her entire life, struggled a bit to get enough momentum on the one attached to her to use it as a weapon. She couldn’t quite reach the opposite end of it to push the button and free the loop from her neck, and trying to run might end up being a bit too awkward, which could put her in an even worse position.

     Thinking quickly, she scooted quickly to the other side of the trough, keeping distance between them. She had to be clever to get out of this one, or to somehow find a weapon that she _could_ use that would give her the advantage. Something even as simple as a crowbar. Though if Tessa had been planning on cutting her throat, chances were she had a knife on her somewhere. One unlucky move would be all it took to have that thing plunge straight into her chest. 

     The door behind Tessa flung open, a very disheveled Earl pausing in the entry to gasp for breath with Hank right behind him. The second man was clutching the side of his head, blood flowing from where he’d been hit. 

     Another rush of adrenaline surged through her, knowing that she was going to have to fight three assailants at the same time. 

     Fuck.

      _Fuckfuckfuck._

“Tess, you aight?” Earl panted as he lumbered forward. 

     The woman in question rolled her eyes, muder clearly the first thing on her mind rather than if she was all right. “Yes, Earl. I’m fine, now _get your ass over here.”_

     He shuffled closer, but stayed just behind her, eyes wary as he eyed Rey. Hank was just as hesitant, eyes shifting from her to his fingers as he pulled them away to look at the blood.

     “You’re gonna pay for that, girly,” he threatened, baring diseased-looking teeth at her. 

     She had hoped that maybe Earl had struggled to hold that zombie back and had maybe lost control of it long enough for it to snag Hank. She _would_ have felt bad about the thought if they hadn’t been about to eat her like she was a five-course meal. 

     At least Rey wasn’t one of those characters in old movies that needed a cheesy one-liner before dealing out a can of whoop ass. 

     Mentally, she assessed the situation, looking for any more vulnerabilities or weaknesses that may put her at the advantage—god knew she needed all the advantage she could get right now. Logically, she knew these people were sick and that they were probably just doing what they needed to survive, but it wasn’t going to come at the expense of her life. 

     “Shut up, both of you,” Tessa snarled. Sure enough, there was something glinting in her hand. She must have pulled it while climbing back to her feet. “I’ve had enough games and niceties. This one dies—now. And I am going to enjoy it _so much_ when her blood spills at my feet. She’s already wearing a nice little necklace of it, isn’t that right, boys?”

     There were two grunts of agreement behind her, their faces morphed into leering grins. Like wolves just waiting for the sheep to tire out enough for them to take it down with little fuss. 

     Tessa’s voice pulled Rey’s attention back to her. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Don’t fight or you’ll just die tired. Either way, you _will_ die here today, and your flesh and organs will feed my people for days."

     Rey grimaced. "You guys need some serious help. Have you tried looking into a licensed therapist or perhaps even a little bit of therapeutic crack? I guarantee you it would be an improvement over whatever is going on in your mind now."

     She jumped to the side as Tessa attempted to grab the pole again. "You little _bitch!_ Hank, Earl, _grab. her!"_

     Both made as if to move but the second they each took a step, glass shattered from somewhere overhead behind Rey and blood bloomed first in Hank's chest, and then in Earl's. 

     Rey threw herself out of the way, expecting a third shot to aim for Tessa in front of her. Apparently the woman in question had the same thought, because suddenly they were looking at each other from underneath the metal trough. 

     Tessa sneered at her, scrambling back to her feet as quickly as she was able while Rey rolled backwards, getting somewhat caught by the pole still attached to her. 

     “You may have brought friends,” Tess panted, her face red with fury. “But it doesn’t matter—we’ll catch and kill them too.”

     “Looks like it’s just you and me now, and whoever’s still up there,” Rey replied as she vaguely pointed her thumb behind her to the window. 

     She didn’t know anything about this new person. She didn’t know if they were friend or foe, if they were only killing the threats to her to lure her in closer for their own amusement. 

     As she ducked underneath some corded piping she struggled to keep eyes on where the other woman was in the room. Even in her older age, Tessa was still fast. 

     When she began to lunge forward, eyes wild and crazed, Rey had a brief moment to panic. She hadn't expected this old bat to scurry like a rodent on some form of upper. 

     It was only by some grace of a miracle that Tess stopped at all. She looked like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing several times before her gaze dropped down to her chest. There was a sizable crimson stain appearing in the fabric.

     She looked back to Rey, blood slowly dripping from one corner of her mouth. She staggered forward, and her head immediately jerked back, another spray of blood and thicker things bursting from the back. 

     The sound her body made as it hit the trough echoed in Rey's ears. It was a tinny sort of thing, higher pitched than she might have anticipated. 

     She had bigger problems than that, though, and as she ducked out of the way to hide behind a large piece of metal, she looked up to the window. Who was this mystery shooter? Were they going to shoot her, too?

     Peeking out warily, she stared, stunned, as Kylo gazed back down at her. His expression was brooding, pensive, and dare she say, even sort of agitated. Through all that, though, he offered her a little wave. 

     Grinning, she waved back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves at everyone*


End file.
